Signs of aging certainly abundant [UPDATED]Published 9:37am Wednesday, March 14, 2012 Updated 11:39am Wednesday, March 14, 2012
I’m getting old. It’s difficult to admit it, but there’s too much evidence coming my way to deny it. The first irrefutable sign was having to figure out Medicare supplemental insurance. That’s a clue.
Now it’s my 50th class reunion year. The Medicare insurance thing? That’s nothing new, really. We’ve all had to figure out health insurance, so I can easily blow that off as just more of the same, no big deal.
But a 50th class reunion? That’s a big deal because I can vividly remember dad’s 50th class reunion, and I can remember thinking: “Can there really be any other of your classmates alive yet?”
I can also remember thinking: “Can anyone really be that old?”
You can. Yes. As big deals in ones lifetime go, this has all the earmarks of being one of them. The ones that come after this aren’t going to be much fun.
And those would be? Well, if you’re not depressed enough already, there’s no sense itemizing them.
Back to the reunion. There have to be some reasons one might want to go to a 50th. What might they be?
Let’s think of some good reasons.
Here’s a reason: The fish aren’t biting. All by itself, this isn’t much, but then, you’re retired, and there’s nothing else to do. Truth be told, you’re just a little tired of eating fish. And for some reason, your boat motor no longer starts.
Here’s another reason: Your Harley Davidson motorcycle fell over out in the shed, and you’re too feeble to stand it back up by yourself, and your children won’t come and help you stand it up again.
They haven’t forgotten the last ten times you called them from all over the county to come help do the same. Kids are rotten to old people. You could show them. You could ride it to your 50th.
That would teach them. But they won’t help you. You’re beginning to think they had something to do with the boat motor.
And another: Since your Harley Davidson motorcycle is out of the question, you’re going to go out and rent a Mustang convertible, switch the rental plates the night before so they think it’s yours, and go to the reunion with a swagger, and hope the highway patrol doesn’t catch you.
If they do catch you, what with the price of groceries, maybe they’ll feed you a couple of days in jail.
Yet one more: Your fourth wife, who is barely older than your children, insists on going. You’re dreading it, because she will want to dance until midnight, which is way past your bedtime.
But you’re going. There’s some reason you got married four times, but it escapes you at the moment. Although your mental faculties aren’t so sharp anymore, maybe you’ll figure this out at the reunion.
And yet one more reason: Even though you aren’t as sharp as you used to be, it has become apparent that you need a new audience to lecture to about how the country is going to hell, and the Tea Party is the only way we’re going to save it.
You know this because your children use their answering machine when you call, and no one else comes to church early anymore, just you.
You’ve just really hit your stride on this, telling people how government has to be gotten out of your life, but they’ll have to excuse you just now, you’re due for your annual Medicare physical, and on the way, you’re going to pick up your monthly Social Security check.
Finally, the biggest reason you’re going to your 50th reunion?
Because you can.